


Considerations On Uncle Duties

by dasakuryo



Series: What the Future Has In Store [5]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, Future Fic, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 11:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6326746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dasakuryo/pseuds/dasakuryo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cisco and Oliver can be very dedicated and concerned uncles, which usually means they get to drive Barry up the wall. Iris's got used to it and its perks by now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Considerations On Uncle Duties

**Author's Note:**

> I blame this drabble existence entirely on [this gifset](http://ohmygettingcrazy.tumblr.com/post/140659165638/westallen-hiatus-week-earth-9-accidental) :) Thanks for stopping by, hope you enjoy the story!

 

“For the fifth time already,” Oliver practically hissed, “green is better, it's a calming colour,” he set his jaw before adding, “and this,” he stressed, rolling out the piece of clothing vehently and levelling it to Cisco's line of sight, “it's not even a vibrant shade, it's _pastel_.”

Cisco's forehead filled with wrinkles instantly, one eyebrow quirked and a most judging glare was directed at Oliver, whose jaw was already set before Cisco had even opened his mouth. That only made Cisco frown deeper.

“That,” he waved condescendly to the pastel green onesie clasped between the man's fingers, “it's going to bore them to death. Red is better,” he retorted back, a smug smile playing on the corner of his lips, “it oozes strength, courage _and_ confidence,” he chuckled and folded his arms over his chest. He gander at Oliver and spread out his right arm, fingers wavering over the distance between them,“what does your _green_ have against that?”

Oliver's jaw clenched even more and his nostril flared, his grasp on the onesie grew considerably tighter, “it prompts _aggression._ ”

“Yeah, totally,” Cisco's voice played with a distinctively sarcastic up and down intonation, “I mean, look at The Flash, clearly nothing like someone who _totally_ doesn't put arrows into people. Totally.”

“That was low.”

“Oh, I am sorry, red makes me aggressive,” Cisco shrugged, spreading his arms out.

“Could you please stop arguing?” a very frustrated and fed-up Barry demanded with a sigh, “I am getting them in yellow.”

 

Both of them turned to look at him, quirked eyebrows and wide eyes in the case of Cisco, and twitched lips and a stern glare in the case of Oliver. From both of them came the same strained, sceptical retort, “do you want to give them _anxiety_ now?”

It was Barry's turn to glare then, “Oh, geez, I thought we were talking about clothes _I_ am getting for _my_ kids,” he said, voice suddenly taking on an acute tone and body tensed, the swing of his arms strangely sharp as his chest thrust out, “I thought it was, you know, me choosing,” he snarled.

Again with this. Why? Just why had they come along? It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the enthusiasm, if anything, this meant that both Dawn and Don had two _very_ dedicated uncles, but they were constantly bickering and arguing about even the most trivial things concerning their nephews. Things like which colour their clothing should be, which brand of baby food was best could ignite an exchange of stares and sarcastic remarks of biblical proportions.

He did appreciate the help, the care and the obvious overwhelming regard that both of them had for the twins but, sometimes, it was just... _too much_ to handle. And he and Iris already had enough on their plate with the twins alone as it was, without having to deal with their childish fights.

It'd have been better if he'd just swept through the store and got what he needed, without even giving them both the chance to appoint themselves to the task of retrieving the new onesies. The Flash identity had to remain a secret, a fact that was most unfortunate giving the current state of Barry's nerves, so resorting to his speed in that given moment was out of question. The only course of action he could follow them was rolling his eyes and trying not to pay any heed to their constant arguing.

“It's my duty as an Uncle-”

“Oh, God!” Barry blurted out in a strained breath, pressing his palms to his ears as he hurried his pace to the cash register.

 

* * *

 

 

“Well, it certainly took you less than I expected,” Iris said, almost giggling, when he appeared on the kitchen doorway.

Barry let out a wary sigh and shrugged. The next second he had his arms wrapped around her waist, chin resting on her head. Iris leant backwards, resting her weight on his chest. She noticed Barry bending over even more, as he tightened his grasp around her. She caressed his clasped hands, the corner of her lips curled up into a smile when her husband hummed.

“You didn't leave them both at the store like last time, did you?” she asked, her concerned tone somewhat amused, “you know they can argue for hours, right?”

“Oh, believe me, I do,” Barry sighed, his voice distinctively frustrated. “They said they wanted to get some toys for Dawn and Don,” he paused and it was her turn to hum when he kissed her softly on the cheek, “I feel sorry for the assistant that suggested Cisco to get them bunnies in pink and blue. When I left he was still on full rant exposition about how you can't gender kid toys, and how blue and pink are just colours. Which is odd because, you know, _that_ doesn't apply to anything green-”

Iris couldn't hold back her laughter; she even heard the faint sound of Barry chuckling in unison. His hold loosened at the situation, moment she took advantage of to twirl around on her spot and throw her arms around his neck. She felt his hands lower and anchor at her hips.

“Perhaps The Flash should go and save her, don't you think?” she commented, stroking his neck and ruffling the short strands of hair at his nape.

She had to press her lips together to keep herself from laughing at Barry's distressed pout. He shook his head, as if she needed further confirmation that he didn't agree with such proposition. She was awfully aware of their proximity, and Iris prayed that silence remained settled over the house for a little while longer. It had been such an hectic couple of months that she couldn't, exactly, recall the last time she and Barry had been like _this_ ever since the twins had arrived.

She could feel the warmth of Barry's breathing, practically itching on her lips. When he had brought up his hands to cradle her face, she didn't know. But she smiled underneath his gentle touch, her gaze drifted between his eyes and lips. She saw his features merging in that strange gapped mouth stare of amazement, slightly faltering as dimples appeared above the corner of his lips. She leant in even closer.

She couldn't pinpoint who leant in first, or who initiated the kiss. The only thing that her mind could register on that very moment on how Barry had captured her top lip between his own, biting it gently, teasing. Her fingers tugged at his hair and she took it upon herself to deepen the kiss, finding it both alluring and pleasant when he let out a loud moan.

“Iris-” he breathed raggedly.

But whatever he was about to add, she made sure to silence it. And it might not have been that important, if the eagerness he put into the kiss that followed was anything to go by. The way his tongue traced over hers almost made Iris let out a moan of her own. Instead, she nibbled swiftly at his lower lip when they parted for air.

Noses almost bumping, they panted and suddenly there was only one ragged breathing as they locked eyes. Barry's hand felt impossibly warm on her cheek, as he traced her jawline with his thumb, he sighed halting the movement at the corner of her lips.

“I've missed this,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, “I've missed _you_ ,” his voice took on a deeper tone with that last phrase, especially when the sound waved around the pronoun.

Iris immediately wrapped her fingers around his wrist; she beamed at him, a fond smile.

“I've missed you _too_ , Barry” she didn't meant to, but her voice came out in a longing whisper. He only gazed at her, that stare with parted lips and soft eyes that Barry saved only for her, as if he was trying to take her in whole with that mere look.

But when she was about to lean in again, an acute cry rang out from the upper floor plopping their bubble. It didn't take more than a few seconds before a second acute cry tuned in too, almost in perfect synchrony.

 

“You know, she's you totally wrapped around her little finger,” Iris noted, while she rocked Don to sleep in her arms. Don, however, had other plans for that afternoon rather than sleeping, too engrossed by his mother's hair, tucking hesitant fingers through the coils as he squinted.

He let out a soft chuckle at the scene, before bringing his attention back to his little girl. Yeah, Iris wording had been perfectly accurate, he reflected, as warmth spread through his chest when Dawn stared at him, wide-eyed, curious dark green eyes fixed on his face. His lips curled into a smile, causing Dawn to look puzzled for a fleeting moment before breaking into an amused gurgle.

When she stretched out her arms, he swung her upwards, levelling her to his face. Her tiny, clumsy fingers trailed all over his face in a rather brusque manner, but far from being bothered he chortled in amusement. He had to wink when Dawn's tentative exploration came too close to his right eye. He smiled when she grasped his nose bridge, before blowing a very sonorous raspberry on her chubby cheek.

“Daddy's girl,” Iris chanted over Dawn's giggle. She was unaware that Don was playing with her necklace.

“Momma's boy,” Barry crooned in response.

They were interrupted by the insistent ringing of the doorbell. Oliver and Cisco had returned bearing gifts, much to the children's delight. Both Dawn and Don seemed to find their light-purple plush bunnies most interesting. As Oliver played with the twins on the carpet, that brief smile of his materializing from time to time on his face; Cisco had a victorious, petulant grin etched to his features the whole time.

Barry wondered whether Oliver knew that to make purple, one needed both blue and _red_.

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, I threw in some WestAllen cute romantic times, because why not? ;)


End file.
